


First Date

by i_owe_you_a_bourbon



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_owe_you_a_bourbon/pseuds/i_owe_you_a_bourbon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was no hurt in her eyes, or anger, or – what he’d feared most of all – pity. Only understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Date

“Daniel, are you alright?” Peggy looked over at her companion in concern. “You look a little peaky.” 

“I’m fine,” Daniel said, forcing a smile. He waved his crutch in the air. “Hikes are my forte; I come with a walking stick and everything.”

Peggy smiled at him, but he could tell he wasn’t fooling her in the slightest. She came to an abrupt stop. “Well, that’s grand for you,” she said. “But my feet are killing me. Heels and gently rolling meadows are both perfectly lovely, so long as the twain never meet.” She flopped down onto the grass and blew out a huff of air. Reaching down, she pulled off her shoes and happily wiggled her newly freed toes, flashing a smile up at him.

Daniel relented, and settled himself next to her. “I really am fine,” he said. “We don’t have to rest on my account.”

“You’re not fine,” she informed him with a sigh. “And we’re not resting on your account. I’d like to see you try to walk across an absurdly large stretch of grassland in heels like these.”

“I’m not sure I have the legs for it.”

Peggy patted his shoulder. “Nor the skill, I imagine.” She gave him an apologetic look. “I truly am sorry, Daniel. I promise you it would have been a lovely picnic if the car hadn’t broken down.” 

“It _was_ a lovely picnic,” Daniel assured her. “And who doesn’t like long walks in the fields?”

Peggy made a face. “I think those long walks are supposed to be under different circumstances. And likely a little _less_ long.”

Daniel looked around. “Yeah, on that note… are you sure this is a shortcut?” he asked, his eyes taking in the seemingly endless expanse of grassy ground stretching out on every side.

“Absolutely,” she said, with a certainty Daniel wasn’t sure if she really felt. Peggy pushed herself to her stockinged feet. “I’m just going to take a look over this hill to see what I can see. I won’t be a minute.” She set off up the hill.

Daniel waited until she’d disappeared over the crest to roll up his pant leg. He winced at the sight of the reddened flesh underneath. “I hate it when I’m right,” he muttered, running his fingers over his prosthetic. As he’d suspected, the socket had been messed up by the fall he’d taken earlier. 

“What’s happened to your leg?” a concerned voice asked suddenly from behind him.

He quickly yanked his pant leg back down and turned to look at Peggy. “Lost it in the war, didn’t you hear?”

Peggy didn’t look amused. “Can I take a look?”

Daniel shook his head. “Not much to look at.”

His companion crouched down beside him. “You are honestly impossible sometimes, Daniel,” she informed him, sounding more sad than irritated. “You’ve injured yourself. Why won’t you let me look?” 

He looked away. “I don’t need you seeing me like that.”

“Like what?” Peggy asked, raising an eyebrow. “Without your trousers? Daniel, I imagine if we are to have a second date, perhaps a third, I will have to see you in something of a state of undress at some point.”

“ _Vulnerable_ ,” Daniel snapped, more aggressively than intended. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly, glancing at Peggy to see if he’d hurt her.

There was no hurt in her eyes, or anger, or – what he’d feared most of all – pity. Only understanding. “I’m sorry I pressed you,” she said softly. “I only want to help.”

“I know,” Daniel muttered, looking down, away from those gentle eyes. “I just… Peggy, I don’t want you looking at me the way other people do. Scornful, or pitying, or like I’m somehow less of a person.”

“Like I’m judging you before I know you, simply because of who and what you are? Like I am superior because of attributes beyond either of our control?” Peggy settled herself on the grass beside him. “Daniel, I know exactly what it is like to be looked at that way. I’m reminded of the way it feels every time I put on my lipstick and heels in the morning.” She sighed, a soft, sad sigh. “I know who you are, my darling, and I promise you that nothing you could ever show me of yourself would change the way I see you.”

Daniel glanced back at her. “Doesn’t it get to you? People looking at you that way?”

Peggy’s face was suddenly very tired. “Of course it does. You know it does. It’s a burden that feels impossible to carry at times. They shun me because of my sex, and you for your leg, as though we are somehow less capable simply for existing as we do, and I _hate_ it. But I refuse to let them make me feel shame for it. I am a woman, I have been and always will be a woman, and I will _never_ let them make me feel inferior for that.”

The bitterness in her eyes hurt Daniel more than his leg, and he attempted a smile at her. “It’ll get better, Peggy. Things will change.”

Her eyes blazed suddenly. “You’re _damn_ right it will,” she said fiercely. “For both of us. Because they are _wrong_. And one day, they _will_ see that.” Then her face softened, and she leaned forward suddenly to kiss him. “I love you, darling. Every part of you. Including the ones you can’t bring yourself to love just yet.”

“I love you too,” Daniel breathed, resting his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for a moment, until Daniel pulled away and glanced down at his leg with a sigh. “I should really get this thing off,” he said. “The socket’s gone to hell. I don’t really want to end up with even less of a leg.” He took a deep breath and rolled his pant leg back up, not looking at her again until his prosthetic lay detached on the ground beside him. Then he met her gaze, slightly hesitantly. “I’d appreciate your help, Peggy,” he said. “I really would.”

She nodded, standing and offering him a hand. “I think I saw civilization in the distance,” she told him, helping him to his feet. With his prosthetic tucked under one arm and his arm slung over her shoulder, she set off up the hill, Daniel hobbling at her side.

“Well then,” he said. “I guess we’re in the last leg of our journey.” Her laughter was music to his ears.


End file.
